


cherry wine

by rsmills



Category: Supergirl (TV 2015)
Genre: Alternate Universe, F/F, Not Canon Compliant, a little bit of a meet-cute!AU, a little bit of a post-college!AU, no powers, there may also be some soulmate tropes there but only if you squint
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-03-18
Updated: 2020-03-20
Packaged: 2021-03-01 05:00:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,485
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23199790
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rsmills/pseuds/rsmills
Summary: 〝my mouth hasn’t shut up about you since you kissed it. the idea that you may kiss it again is stuck in my brain, which hasn’t stopped thinking about you since well before any kiss.〞or Kara Danvers moves back to National City after being accepted as a PhD candidate with none other than Cat Grant as her thesis chair and advisor. upon arriving, she meets Lena Luthor, a force to be reckoned with in the field, and can’t help but feel like it was fate.
Relationships: Kara Danvers/Lena Luthor
Comments: 18
Kudos: 35





	1. welcome to national city, it's been waiting for you

**Author's Note:**

> hello! this is my first time publishing anything multi-chaptered and i would really appreciate the feedback. i'm writing this for fun and (really) for myself, but i would love to hear your thoughts as i am completely new at this. 
> 
> {i had to re-upload this chapter for formatting reasons!}

⋆⋆⋆

The first thing she notices is the light; it's warm and soft and it permeates through her closed eyelids. It’s early, she knows, the body next to her — soft and solid and taking up way too much space — hasn’t stirred yet. Outside, the city is starting to buzz with the unstoppable electricity that runs through it, the same that only really dims but never fully fades. The white noise lulls her softly back to a content state, not deep enough for sleep, but relaxing enough to zone out her phone’s chiming for a little longer. 

Last she checked, her notification count was up to 78, and that was just for messages. She had turned off her Twitter notifications within the first 14 replies — it was unusual and overwhelming and who were all those people following her, anyway? — and really, the people she cared about most to respond would reach out directly. 

But at 6:53AM she can't take it anymore. Rolling over to mute the incessant _dingdingding_ , Kara groans with exhaustion. Beside her, Krypto yawns, blinking his sleep-laden eyes lazily before grumbling.

“Good morning to you, too, Krypto,” she yawns, running her fingers lightly through the Golden Retriever’s soft fur, looking even lighter than its pale yellow as the morning light shines through the industrial windows over her bed. “You need to be bathed and brushed. Maybe Alex will volunteer, hm? What do you think?” 

Krypto’s ears perk up at Alex’s name but his reaction is non-committal. Kara laughs as she stretches languidly, feeling for her phone again. _Ugh_ she thinks as 113 unread messages stare back at her. Kara is not ungrateful, far from it, but she didn’t expect the amount of support she would receive when she posted not once but twice (which okay, maybe these are the consequences of her actions) on two different social platforms, of her acceptance as a Ph.D. Candidate at National City University — her sister’s alma mater and one of the most prestigious institutions in the country. 

The past week had been a whirlwind of elation and anxiety and dread and happiness all rolled into one. Alex was the first to know, the decision to tell her was immediate and subconscious; Kara’s fingers worked blindly on her phone until she heard with trembling _truntruntrun_ of the connecting FaceTime call. The official letter embroidered with the university’s crest and Yale-blue header was still half in the envelope and the last remains of a strawberry sprinkles donut in her hands when her sister picked up. A high-pitched _I got it! I got the candidacy and the funding!_ was enough of an introduction for Alex to catch up and respond with the same level of enthusiasm. 

Twenty-eight minutes later and several tears shed by both Danvers sisters, they hang up with a wet " _Congratulations, Kar. Honestly. If anyone deserves this is you. I can’t believe you’re coming back to National City!_ " from Alex.

Since graduating from Stanford with her Bachelor of Arts in Art History and Sociology followed by a Masters in the latter respectively, Kara’s decision to pursue a Ph.D. in Art History came as no surprise. Driven and vocally passionate about art, architecture and anything with a traceable history in several mediums, it was a logical next-step in her career, albeit academic. There were only two options, really: a doctoral program with one of the country’s most renowned art historians and academic researchers or an entry-level position at a metropolitan museum under their curation department. The latter was never truly an option, at least not when Cat Grant was said historian and researcher. 

She scrolls through her messages quickly, responding to a few _Congratulations!!_ and _So proud of you, Kar! 🎉_ from her friends before making a mental note to return their calls. After a week in National City and a semi-furnished apartment, it was time to let them know she was officially back and in need of a game night as soon as their schedules would allow. Krypto makes himself known again, kicking her thigh as he stretches before leaving her bed. 

Kara yawns again, it’s barely after 7AM now but her mind is awake; her fingers struggle to catch up as she responds to Alex’s texts. The patterned duvet is thrown off her but she lingers, listening intently for Krypto’s movements as he waits patiently in the kitchen to be fed.

_Morning 🥱_ she types, groaning as she remembers the boxes in question. Kara's apartment back in Stanford was small -- _it's little but it's perfect for me_ she would argue when Alex brought up the lack of square footage but excessive amounts of _things_ that she begrudgingly agreed was neatly organized -- but not empty. It was lively and lived in, a perfect blend of Kara's personality and her love for art. Sketches and paintings adorned the walls, mostly unrecognizable works from up-and-coming artists with a few pieces of her own. Her bookshelves were overflowing; the books that once lined her living and bedroom walls now sat in Alex's apartment waiting to be retrieved. 

_Thanks for reminding me!!_ she continues, trying to sound more awake than she currently is and playing off how long Alex has had the bulk of her belongings in her apartment. _I'll get them when I drop Krypto off, okay?_ she doesn't wait for a response before tossing her phone aside.

She’s up, officially. She pads through her bedroom and out into her kitchen where Krypto awaits, his head cocked as she turns on the coffee-maker. He knows his food bowl will be filled next.

They work in a companionable silence; Krypto munches on his kibble as Kara works on a fast breakfast, her coffee mug steaming and refilled by the time she returns from the bathroom after a speedy but very hot shower. Her phone _dings_ again and Alex’s name pops up.

Kara has half a mind to turn her phone off just so she can’t look at the time and the upcoming event notification, too. **Meeting with Cat Grant at 9:15 (in 1 hr)** stares back at her. It’s not fear, no, maybe not even nerves. It’s realization that it is finally happening. She is meeting Cat Grant. _The_ Cat Grant. In person. She will need to speak with Cat Grant without the safety of her apartment; of an email account and the endless void that is the internet between them; of an online dictionary and thesaurus just to make sure she doesn’t sound like a complete idiot as she writes. First impressions are everything and Kara needs to make sure her first impression is impeccable.

Alex responds as she ushers Krypto to his crate, scratching the back of his ear lovingly as if it will make it any better that he will be locked up for a few hours, and Kara smiles. Despite her aloof demeanor, Alex is incredibly loving and kind and supportive; the way in which she supports and encourages Kara are reason enough for her to feel ready to at least leave her apartment. 

She breathes in, then breathes out, typing a quick response as she grabs her keys and leaves her apartment before the time reads 8:10AM.

⋆⋆⋆


	2. all your life now, you couldn’t be mad about it

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hello again! this chapter is almost word-for-word the update i shared on twitter. i tried to elaborate a little in lieu of including the tweets/messages exchanged but instead this update includes both: more text and the social media posts! hopefully you don't mind. 🙂 
> 
> i tried to be mindful all devices when formatting the images; it’s not perfect on the iphone 8 but should be compatible with the 11 and beyond. please let me know if there are any issues with it!
> 
> i hope it flows well and that you enjoy!

⋆⋆⋆

She mapped it out and, at this point, she could probably run through at least two routes in her head given how many times she checked the transit map and step-by-step directions. It’s not that Kara doesn’t trust public transportation, or GoogleMaps for that matter, it’s that she doesn’t trust other people’s ability to be where they need to be _when_ they need to be there. National City’s infrastructure left a lot to be desired and, while Kara would typically throw caution to the wind and take whichever express line got her to her destination the quickest, today was not the day to risk being stuck in subterranean metal container.

Instead, she requests an Uber as soon as she finishes texting Alex back and locking her door — she doesn’t need a repeat of her sister’s lecture about safety. _It was one time, for Rao’s sake_ , her hands were full and Krypto was excited and she just forgot to lock Alex’s apartment... Either way, she checks and then double checks just to be certain. Her apartment was exactly 18 minutes away from National City University’s Neumann Building via the ride; two blocks east was Noonan’s, Kara’s favourite coffee shop. If her calculations were right and her driver was not above speeding a little, she would make in to Noonan’s in time for a coffee and pastry — if her stomach settled, that is — giving her at least 7 minutes to walk off her anxiety before entering Cat Grant’s office.

Kara doesn't wait long before the black sedan pulls up. She tucks her bag close to herself before climbing in, ensuring it is really there along with her journal and proposal folder. It’s an introductory meeting, nothing will be set in stone, but Kara has heard of Cat Grant, she knows the historian expects the best and the mere fact that Kara Danvers was able to secure a meeting with her is reason enough to be over-prepared. 

Her driver speeds, if only just a little, and briefly worries about her safety as the car hits no less than three curbs. In lieu of yelping out loud, Kara scrolls through her social media, tweeting silently and briefly distracting herself from following the driver's route obsessively. He talks animately on the phone, occasionally checking his rearview mirror where Kara awkwardly smiles, praying her face doesn't betray her as she holds on to the door handle like a lifeline.

As predicted, the drive is smooth enough and Kara thanks every existing deity for making to Noonan's without complications. 

She approaches the counter with an easy smile, engaging with the barista who has seen her no less than six times since moving to National City; he is friendly and always eager to recommend the shop's daily special which, with the exception of their Tangerine Tonic featured the previous week, Kara finds herself enjoying. Noonan’s is relatively slow and the queue moves fast enough for Kara to easily order a sweetened coffee and freshly baked chocolate croissant, the latter which she plans on saving as though not to get flakes all over herself prior to this meeting. 

Kara checks her watch; it reads 8:30AM. _Okay, on schedule_ she thinks as she takes the ceramic mug from the barista. She hesitates briefly before making her way around patrons, clearly in a hurry as they unceremoniously take their to-go cups often without looking up from an email or non-personal interaction.

With a few minutes to spare, Kara drinks and people watches, trying her best to not take up more space than necessary on the hightop table while keeping the coffee in her mug and off her blouse. 

Setting her phone down, she sips her coffee, drinking a little more cautiously than she normally would. The device vibrates and Kara gasps almost comically as she watches the incoming notifications. Winn's name pops up once followed by Nia's and Alex's, so she responds to her sister's mildly chastising tweet calling her out on her sweet tooth. She briefly considers calling Alex, outlining her previously mapped route and near-perfect timing so far only to reconsider as her timeline updates with tweets clearly about her.

|

Kara bristles then; swirling the coffee cup in her hand as nervous habit. It takes her two seconds to make a decision. Her bag, already on her shoulder, wrinkles her right sleeve, indenting itself against the curvature of her arm and swinging almost precariously tilting her slightly off-balance. 

The cup is discarded in a service tray, she exists swiftly, narrowly missing a girl in her haste to leave.

⋆⋆⋆

Running really wasn’t in her plan, but then again, neither was actually stopping at Noonan’s… sure, grabbing a coffee (to _go_ ) was accounted for but Kara was feeling optimistic and she loves Noonan’s so… she caved. She stopped and tweeted and then Alex had to make a big deal about it. But it was fine, really. She was back on track and simply speed-walking to her meeting with Cat Grant. Who would probably know that she speed-walked. 

Thankfully, however, there are no incidents other than the lightheadedness and anxiety just waiting to take over her, and Kara arrives with minutes to spare. The building is expansive and modern, a clear juxtaposition from its historical 19th century exterior. She texts Alex a quick _here, wish me luck!_ before getting in the elevator. 

It’s a quick ride, too quick for Kara’s anxiety to spike any more than it already has so she breathes — Alex’s texts reassure her and leaves little room for her to question her decision to apply for a Ph.D. to begin with. 

She straightens her posture, running her hands over her skirt to rid it of any imaginary lines and lint. By the time the elevator doors open, Kara has pep-talked herself around the sun and confidently makes her way towards the oak door with a shiny placard that reads **Cat Grant, Ph.D.** followed by **Department of Art History Head**. Rapping softly twice, she waits for confirmation before walking in.

Kara has seen photos of Cat Grant. Objectively, she knew exactly what to expect — lithe and beautiful, fair-haired and well-dressed. But nothing prepared Kara for Cat’s presence. It’s all-encompassing and Kara can’t compare it to anything, or anyone, else she knows. While in grad school, Kara attended and spoke at several conferences, many of which were populated by some of the most well-known researchers and academics and historians in the field, many of whom Kara admired and drew inspiration from. She knows what it’s like to be around great people. Cat Grant, however, is in her own category.

For one, photos do not do her justice. She is beautiful and, therefore, intimidating. Sat at her desk, Kara watches her. She stands out in the modern space; it is mostly white with rows of books on imbedded bookshelves directly behind and beside her. Her desk is unsurprisingly neat and organized, Kara is hesitant to take out her portfolio and disrupt the clear balance between the two of them.

She feels her heartbeat twice, maybe thrice, before Cat looks up.

“Miss Danvers, yes? I’ve been expecting you.” 

If Cat notices Kara’s nervousness, she doesn’t mention it. Instead, she motions for Kara to sit across from her watching her movements with an arched brow. 

“Doctor Grant,” she starts, “it is a pleasure to meet you.”

“Yes, it is. You have an admirer.” Cat all but purrs. “It had been a while since Lois Lane personally called me. Imagine my surprise when it was not me she wanted to speak about, but you. Kara Danvers.”

Cat scans her face, the smallest hint of a smile gracing her lips.

“Tell me then, Kara Danvers, what makes you so special?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you for reading! formatting was difficult but no more time consuming than posting on twitter. let me know your thoughts on the overall content: did you like the social media blend-in? would you like to see more of it as the story progresses?
> 
> i will continue to update both ao3 and twitter; be on the look out for my username in the next update for bonus content there. ♡

**Author's Note:**

> thank you for reading! this includes several social media posts to go along with it as this was originally developed as a social media au thus i have another update ready + some bonus content if the interest is there. i will be sharing my twitter handle soon so you can check out the social media bits that were not included this time.
> 
> please let me know what you think -- i greatly appreciate it x


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